


Taming Of The Shrew

by RogueLioness



Series: Dragon Age Prompts [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-02 17:26:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8676259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueLioness/pseuds/RogueLioness
Summary: Prompt: Hungry kisses on every bit of newly visible skin as clothing is slowly peeled away.
 
  Solas x Samarra





	

**Author's Note:**

> Samarra is a character from my fic, [A Whole New World](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7052848/chapters/16034713). This isn't part of that work.
> 
> Posted originally on my [tumblr](http://roguelioness.tumblr.com/)

He’s rudely removed from his journey in the Fade by the loud commotion outside. Opening his eyes, he catches Dorian rushing down the stairs. “What is the matter, ser Pavus?” he asks irritatedly. He so hates being disturbed from his time with his spirit friends.

“Samarra,” Dorian grins widely, his teeth gleaming in the light of the torches. “She’s taming a dracolisk.” So saying, the Tevinter mage rushes out, and Solas - intrigued as he always is by the indomitable seeress - rises swiftly from his couch and follows.

There, in the middle of the courtyard, he finds her atop one of the dragon-like beasts, her thighs tightly gripping the dracolisk’s flanks, her hands gently stoking and petting the beast’s neck. He watches, amazed, as the bucking, incensed mount gradually calms, eventually turning it’s head to better listen to what she’s quietly murmuring to it. It lets out a huff, and she throws her head back and laughs, the sound of it rushing straight to his core.

Oh, but the sight of her taming a beast so feral… 

It gives him ideas.

Like how her hair is unbound and free, flowing down her back in a fashion reminiscent of a turbulent river. Like how her shoulders are always held back so proud and straight. And how her head is always held high.

He has the sudden urge to tame her, the way she has so successfully conquered the beast.

He knows she will return to the rotunda, and so he lies in wait. Playing the waiting game has always been easy for him, but for once, he doesn’t have to. She enters, and the scent of her, mingled with the musk of her sweat, assails him, and he has the urge to taste. 

When he steps out of the shadows towards her, he notes she isn’t surprised. Her pupils are wide, her eyes filled with adrenaline. She is heady from her victory , and he’s aware of the heat roiling off her.

“A most magnificent performance,” he murmurs.

“Why, thank you Solas,” she remarks, gnawing on her lip. He’s distracted by that.

“But I believe your clothing is in disarray,” he comments, aware of the devilish smirk his lips are twisting into, but unable to stop it. He takes a step closer, waiting for a reaction, but she does nothing but observe. He tugs at her coat, pulling it off in jerky movements, his eyes never leaving hers; but she doesn’t stop him. She’s wearing a simple tunic beneath, and it slides off one shoulder in the process, exposing tantalizingly tan skin beneath. Soft, smooth, silky, he can’t help himself; he is hungry to learn the feel of it, the scent and taste of her; he presses his lips to newly-bared flesh, learning the contours of her neck, the dip of her collarbone; sweeping his tongue across the light smattering of freckles that dot her shoulders.

She whimpers quietly, and he smiles against warm, salty skin.

He wants more of this, and he will have it. He knows it is inevitable.


End file.
